The Dreame
by Susanne
Summary: Added prologue and epilogue- NOW COMPLETE! Sometimes dreams can come true, the trick is to decide which ones and recognise when that line has been crossed. SSHG.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The poem here belongs to Ben Jonson, the characters are JKR, the plot is all mine. I promise to return everything in good order when I have finished playing with them.

THE DREAM

Or scorn, or pity on me take,  
I must the true relation make,  
I am undone to-night :  
Love in a subtle dream disguised,  
hath both my heart and me surprised,  
Whom never yet he durst attempt t' awake ;  
Nor will he tell me for whose sake  
He did me the delight,  
Or spite ;  
But leaves me to inquire,  
In all my wild desire,  
Of Sleep again, who was his aid,  
And Sleep, so guilty and afraid,  
As since he dares not come within my sight.


	2. The Awakening of Innocence

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
  
  
  
  
As sleep gradually receded allowing her conscious mind to rule her actions once again, the irrational fear caught hold of her. Not daring yet to move her body, her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for the familiar to give her some idea of her location, to make sure she had returned from the dream. The feeling of disorientation lessened as she recognised the myriad of cracks and stains that made up the ceiling of her bedroom. The flower patterned curtains which let in as much light as they managed to keep out, were still pulled against the morning stirring outside her flat. Things were just as she had left them, clothes hung in the wardrobe, its door caught open by the hem of a dark robe, books in abundance piled haphazardly across an overcrowded desk. Nothing had moved or changed from its position the night before. Nothing had been changed by the dream. Nothing but me, she thought.  
  
She was not an imaginative person, she had seen too many horrors and wonders to begin making them up. As a muggle she had been brought up to read fairy stories and children's tales, but as a boarder at Hogwarts she had lived the nightmare's the stories generally concealed. Fairy godmothers and pixies sounded nice in Grimm's tales, but in reality they were trouble, they were manipulative and pesky. And although she had become a lot less cynical when it came to allowing for ideas and creatures her logical muggle trained mind told her were not real, having to muck out Hippogriffs tended to ensure you had a healthy respect for the possibility that these things might exist, might be real.  
  
It made understanding what was happening to her more complex. She recognised her need to find another soul to cleave to. She longed for a companion to understand her, to truly care about the way she felt, about her ideas and needs. She wanted to be one half of a whole, but she also wanted that person to fulfil a whole list of other essential requirements. She was picky, and it tended to spoil any potential relationships before they even got off the ground.  
  
She smiled wanly as she swung her legs out of bed, shuffling her feet into a worn pair of red slippers and stretching her arms above her head to work some of the cricks from her frame. Grinning in earnest at the loud crack which announced her shoulder returning to its rightful place, she rose and made her way into the bathroom, calling good morning to her cat as he opened an eye to watch her. Gazing bleary eyed into the mirror she took in the sight of her sleep creased face, cinnamon eyes under long black eyelashes, brown hair currently a haze of disorder around her head. She rubbed her eyes, looking critically at her wide mouth, and even features. Not too bad, she thought, rubbing her hand down the side of her neck, easing the muscles.  
  
It was then that she saw the mark, not particularly large or painful, but a bite mark nevertheless. Pulling back her hair and peering into the mirror she realised exactly what it was, a love mark, a mark that she had no conscious knowledge of receiving, and yet it marred her neck and stood defiantly red against the cream of her skin.  
  
"Nothing has changed." she murmured to herself, "Nothing but you!"  
  
. 


	3. The Longing for Knowledge

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
  
  
  
The journey to work was uneventful, she lived close enough to walk, weaving through the crowds of muggles to enter the non descript building which housed the Ministry of Magic. Smiling at the auror on guard she wandered to her lab in a daze, scuffing her feet along the floor, her mind drifting to the mark on her neck and its implications.  
  
Upon entering the lab she pulled on a white robe, similar to her school robes in style, and nodding distractedly at her colleagues she sat at her desk, hands laid quietly on the pile of paperwork which seemed to greet her each morning.  
  
"Did you want a coffee Hermione? You look half wake honey." A friendly witch called, clapping Hermione on the shoulder on her way to a large tea trolley which stood in the corner of the lab. Hermione jumped, scattering paperwork across her desk and bringing her back to Earth in a second. "I , uhm..I'm fine thanks." She called. "Just tired, not enough sleep."  
  
"Who's the lucky guy?" said the witch, leering in Hermione's direction. "Come on tell, you never said anything about a boyfriend before."  
  
Hermione smiled warmly, she liked Cassandra Crump, she was always genial, never in a bad mood and was very good at her job.  
  
"It's no-one. I swear!" she said in protest as Cassandra's eyebrows rose speculatively.  
  
"I just had a dream and it upset my sleep." she finished lamely  
  
"Oh!, that kind of dream" Cassandra's leer now filled her whole face, she sauntered back to Hermione's desk and propped her ample frame against it whilst stirring her tea.  
  
"No!" Hermione protested, just a little too vehemently. "No, I just couldn't sleep after the dream. I don't remember what it was about or anything, it was just ..well, it was disturbing." She looked up at her friend, worry filling her eyes and saw, to her relief, a motherly look replace the leer.  
  
"Oh", she said all innuendo gone from her tone. "I know what you mean. Maybe you need a holiday sweetie? Wouldn't be before time you know."  
  
A door slammed and Cassandra rose from her slouched position on Hermione's desk in one graceful movement, to greet her supervisor as he arrived and make her way back to her desk.  
  
The rest of day went well, filled with questions and queries from the rest of the team, filled with the mind numbing tedium that working for the Ministry seemed to ensure. At first she had been very happy to take up the position of under supervisor magical artefacts research management officer, but now it was simply a case of shuffling the endless supply of paperwork across her ever untidy desk. She was bored.  
  
Maybe, she thought, maybe that it why I am dreaming. Maybe the mark is just the psychosomatic symptoms of a bored magical mind with too much time on its metaphorical hands. Maybe, she thought, maybe.  
  
Sleep was impossible, the bed was never comfortable, her mind whirred with a thousand different ideas and thoughts. Anything to keep the dream away, anything to make it happen again. God, she thought, I have no idea what I want from this, I can't even dream in peace. Angrily she turned over onto her side, closed her eyes and relaxed into a determined sleep. She wanted to remember this time. She needed to know the dreame, for her own sanity.  
  
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss  
  
She seemed to slide into the room, where there was once an empty space there was now Hermione, standing nonchalantly, before sauntering across the room and confidently reaching for the handle of the door. The sleeping part of her reached forward, eager to learn the secret of the unconscious wanderer, longing to know the truth, urging her dream self to hurry and enter the darkened room beyond the now open door.  
  
She awoke, fears cold fingers clutching at her mind. Where was she? Eyes darting around the cold room reassured her that she was home, she was safe. She had dreamed again, that much at least she could remember. Images flashed unbidden across her brain, the initial room, the door, a dark room beyond seemingly clouded by a thick veil of gauzy black. No clear images, mainly smells, feelings, sensations that felt so familiar to her. It was not enough, not enough to satisfy her curiosity, not enough to allow her to identify the man she dreamt of. She needed to remember.  
  
Coffee, work, Cassandra, lunch, work, home, routine. Throughout the day she relived minute pieces of her nocturnal adventure, the smell of sage and sandalwood, the feel of large graceful hands stroking across her skin of her back, and the satisfaction, the euphoria that only he could bring. She knew exactly where the mark had come from, she thought, blushing furiously, she now needed to know who put it there.  
  
Cassandra watched her, noticing how quiet the already quiet girl had become. Lost in a world of her own, she occasionally blushed, the odd whispered conversation with herself, the occasional coughing fit which disguised a gasp made out loud. Whatever was occupying her mind, it seemed interesting. Cassandra watched and worried, hoping that Hermione could sort it all out herself.. although not before supplying the juicy details of course.  
  
Her days seemed to be getting in the way, she mused. Her mind was totally preoccupied; all she thought about was him. When it was finally time to go home she gathered her coat and practically ran from the lab, nodding her goodbyes and waving as she hurried home, hurried back to him.  
  
Sleep took her and the room materialised again. Dark, no candles lit, no fire burning despite the chill which pervaded the room. No moon shone through the large window, but dark shadows hinted of the presence of large pieces of furniture, of book shelves lining the walls. She walked towards the bedroom door, drawn like a moth to the flame of his presence. Hand trembling upon the handle, she opened the door into the room beyond. 


	4. The reality

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly_especially if bunnies are well fed_hint hint ;o)  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss  
  
  
  
The darkness continued in here, but her eyes were slowly becoming more accustomed to the gloom and she could make out the large bed in one corner of the room and set at an angle, two chairs sat before a fire which had recently been giving of enough heat so that the room did not feel too cold, and him. He sat in the chair facing the door, just as she had known he would. He rose, crossing towards her, his boot heels clicking on the floor as soon as he left the rug behind. No words were spoken, but Hermione suddenly knew that this was the norm. She couldn't see his face, the gloom in the room obscuring all but a glint in dark eyes as he drew her to him and she dissolved into his embrace.  
  
Desperately gathering all the information she could about him, just in case this was the only time she would remember, she filed away her first impressions of her lover. He was tall, towering over her 5'7", making her feel small and protected. He was lean; she could feel his muscles moving beneath the light cotton shirt he wore, his hips narrow and his stomach flat. His hair was collar length, hanging straight and thick as she pushed her hands through it, caressing his nape as she drew his lips in to kiss him once more. He tasted of the wine he had been drinking earlier that evening, and strangely of apple and cinnamon. His hands were large graceful, she could feel them splayed along her back, gently sweeping across her skin under her robe, pushing the straps of her nightdress off her shoulders until gravity brought both the garments to a rippling puddle of aqua silk and charcoal grey wool at her feet. He took a step back, towards the large bed, gently pulling her hands captured in his as a silent request for her to join him. Needing no further bidding, Hermione stepped from her clothes and into his arms as he gathered her to him and carried her the rest of the way across the room and into his bed.  
  
Suddenly realising that her overanalyses of the situation was preventing her from fully appreciating the moment she was living in, Hermione deliberately stopped her catalogue of sensations. She had been trying to ascertain the fabric of his bed hangings and nearly missed a casual caress of her right hip as he settled her into the warmth of his bed. Willingly she became swept up in the tide of passion and yearning that was overcoming her, overcoming them both from the groans of pleasure he was making as she moved her hands over his chest in exploration. Deciding he had way too many clothes on for her liking, Hermione began to sensuously pull the buttons from their moorings, until the light tugging became a frantic groan and pulling action as she realised that these were not going to be as easy as muggle button holes. She groaned in frustration, sitting up and giving one last tug in a silent plea for help. He chuckled, a deep low rumble which instantly connected Hermione's ears to the throbbing core of her, making her lags turn to jelly and her need for him escalate beyond anything she had ever felt before. Gods, this man was unbelievable her mind whispered. What was it about him, she was obsessed by her need.  
  
He obliged her by getting up from the bed, despite her mew of protest at him moving. He hushed her and quickly began removing his shirt, toeing off his boots and stepping on his socks. Realising that she was watching him intently, her night vision being able to make out his form if not his features, he slowed down, letting her take in the sight of him removing the rest of his clothes, he stood motionless for a while, their unseeing eyes connecting in the gloom, their awareness of each other hyper sensitive. She raised her arms to him, welcoming him back into her embrace. He stepped into her like a drowning man clinging to his salvation.  
  
Their love making was intense, never hurried but slow and deliberate, all sensation wrung from each moment. Despite her lack of memory about this man, Hermione found that her body knew him, knew what he liked, how to please him and make him moan his pleasure. And, as they finally found their fulfilment in each other, Hermione's final climax pushing him over the edge of control and into his own abyss she found a single phrase escaped her, whispered into his hair…… my love.  
  
They had drifted, contented and sleepy into a light slumber, arms still tight around each other, sharing the same breathes., and this was when the contentment hit her, the realisation of her spoken words. How she was not sure, and by every logically thought pattern it was inconceivable that she should feel this way., but she wanted him, she needed him, she loved this man with a fierce passion which made every other feeling she had experienced seem to pale in comparison. This was the dream that she would have chosen to come true. The one desire of her heart which would have shone out clearly from the Mirror of Erised. She craved this love, this absolute need of another, to be so needed in return.   
  
She had always wanted to belong, to be part of the group. Singled out in muggle primary school she had been excluded from the life of her peers. No-one could understand her intelligence and seemingly weird abilities, not enough to be her friend. She had been so relieved when she had received her letter from Hogwart's and realised that there would be hundreds of other children just like her, hundreds of new opportunities. Only they hadn't all been like her. Her intelligence had proved to be another boundary to making friends and being liked for herself. When she was finally accepted into Harry and Ron's exclusive little club of misfits she had finally found the first best friends of her life. She was dedicated to the group from then on, they were her friends.  
  
Although the troublesome trio had stayed close, their time together after graduation had changed. No longer one big round of adventure, their friendships had matured, had changed. Hermione had matured and needed so much more than just friendship, not from Harry and Ron, that would have been too gross for words, they were her family now after so many years as best friends. No, now she needed to find someonelse, her soul mate.   
  
If she could have chosen, in truth, for a dream to be reality then this one would be it. Not knowing which magic was involved she simply thanked everything in creation for providing her with this reality, before drifting off to sleep contentedly in her lovers arms.  
  
  
She had gone, slipped away into an insubstantial shadow before his eyes. Arms which had surrounded him, held him close and loved him, were suddenly dragged away, as if they never were, just a dream.   
The scent of their night together filled the room, a sweet cloying which belied his dream status. Gathering the pillow she had slept on to his chest he buried his head in it's depths, breathing in her scent and shaking with all the pent up emotion he felt at her leaving. Just one phrase escaped him as he muffled the sounds of his despair….my love.  
  
  
. 


	5. Finding Answers

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
She awoke, and as a change to recent awakenings, no fear consumed her, just a warm feeling of well being. Her limbs ached and a wide smile lazily made its way over her face as she stretched, snuggling down into her duvet into a cocoon of warm satisfaction. She remembered, she remembered every warm sensuous detail with delicious clarity and by God it felt good!. Ignoring the morning clamours of her hungry cat, she basked in the memories, reliving her dream.  
  
Cassandra watched with delight as Hermione sauntered over to the tea trolley, humming a muggle tune and smiling distractedly. Looks like she worked it out finally, she thought, happy that Hermione was content, even if she was acting totally out of character.  
  
Hermione found her days dragged by, filled with a golden haze of her own happiness. Her nights were spent either with her lover or sleeping and thinking about him. There seemed to be a very particular difference between her dreams of him and "The Dreame" as she had begun to call it, where she was with him. It was as if a dividing line differentiated the two states, a different state of awareness that allowed her to tell them apart. She knew that when she was with him she was not dreaming in the conventional sense. She awoke tired, if satisfied, and was now becoming quite convinced that she was not merely dreaming but indeed travelling to the time and place her lover occupied. How this was accomplished, by what spell and activated by whom she had no idea. She had no way of identifying the magic, as strangely she didn't seem to have her wand with her. She knew she could have performed some analysis if she could keep it by her side next time she dreamed. Her fear now was that she would break the spell before she was able to replicate it. She did nothing to alter the circumstances of their current meetings, scared that even the slightest change would snatch him away from her forever. It terrified her enough to keep her curiosity at bay..for now.  
  
He, it seemed, had come to the same opinion, and took great care to ensure that the scene of their meetings, the space in which they danced was always the same. Whenever she arrived the room was either in darkness, or the light in his bedroom was extinguished by the time her hand had turned the handle of his door. No words were spoken by either of them, none were needed to express their feelings, their wants and desires. Hermione had never been a screamer, not that she had a particularly wide experience to draw from, so the only sounds uttered in the room were the heartfelt sighs and the gasps of pleasure they used to communicate.  
  
She thought her life was complete, her happiness supreme, and yet it nagged at her. She wanted to look into his eyes, to call his name, to know his mind as intimately as she knew his body. Just like the Greek myth, she thought, comparing her situation to Psyche and Cupid. She, however, had no intention of losing her lover by breaking the spell that protected them, that made their meetings possible. She had no idea how she would be able to see him again if she was indeed moving through time to be with him. It had to be enough, this closeness and distance combined. It had to be enough, and yet it wasn't.  
  
  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
He had spelled the door to wake him when her hand touched the handle of his bedroom door. He had spent a great many nights awake waiting for her, trying to ascertain a pattern in her visits, but to no avail. There was no pattern he could find, and therefore he had no warning of her visit until she was already within his rooms. His temper had consequently hit rock bottom, the constant anticipation, constant need of her, had left him in a foul mood that spilled out to encompass him like a black cloud. Everybody had noticed, the students kept as far away from him as possible, even the other teachers were wary. The only exception to this seemed to be the Headmaster who wafted breezily through the great hall, said good evening in a loud and sunny voice and clapped the younger man on the shoulder as he passed behind him and walked to his seat at the dinner table. Severus just grunted, moodily rolling his aching shoulder and waiting for the meal to begin.  
  
"Headmaster, I really am worried about Severus." A thin lipped Minerva McGonagall whispered, "He is most definitely more disagreeable than usual, he has positively terrified Amanda Gibbons, I really think you need to have a word with him." Her voice had begun to rise with her protective emotions and she turned a recrimanatory glance in Severus's direction.  
  
"Maybe he just needs to get laid?" Sirius Black announced in voice that could be heard on the house tables, grinning at Minerva's blushing cheeks and winking at Severus maliciously.  
  
"I don't think that is the problem, Sirius." Albus announced giving him his most stern reproving look, Sirius looked sceptical. "But I shall have a word with him if this doesn't sort itself out in the next few days. Don't worry Minerva, your Gryffindors have enough courage to get through double potions once a week." He chuckled, and winked at her before turning a worried expression towards his favourite Potions Master.  
  
He ate with mechanical action, he tasted nothing, felt nothing, experienced nothing that was not with her. He had never felt so helpless, so bound to another person like he felt with her.it deepened his mood. Every evening, after had dealt with his detentions, his marking and other extraneous projects, he sat and waited for her presence. He had time to think, to try and figure out what exactly was happening, what were their ties to this spell. He had decided on concealing his identity from the moment he had realised that she was not a dream. The scratch marks had been deep and painful, and most definitely not a figment of his imagination. He had much better things to imagine, he leered to himself.  
  
So, here he sat, his lean frame stretched out beside the low banked fire, reading by the light of the candle on the table next to him, another impatient vigil. The words of the book swarmed across his vision and he found himself unable to make a comment on the previous several pages. Angrily he turned back the pages, muttering to himself at his inability to concentrate on so simple a task. When he had the leisure to analyse the next few moments he would see his distraction as ironic. It had stopped him from realising her presence in the room beyond, it had stopped him from extinguishing the candle at her entrance, it had stopped the concealment of his identity and in that one captured moment, it had stopped Hermione's heart as she looked at her lover and recognised the one man she truly disliked. 


	6. The Courage of Godric

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
  
Big hug to Eternal Queen- just for being a sweetie! Hope the last chapter sorted out a few questions.  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
  
  
"Professor Snape!" she cried, heartwrenchingly, her hand grasping the door frame for support as her world suddenly began to spin. At his sudden movement towards her, her consciousness gave up the fight and she descended into a black faint.  
  
Severus swore and raced to catch her before she bashed her head against the stone of the door jamb or the wood of the floor. Picking her up gently he carried his unconscious burden to his bed and gently laid her upon the covers. Shit, he thought, why the bloody hell did it have to be her? Of all the people it could have been, she was probably the most embarrassing, well nearly he thought, a vision of Millicent Bulstrode flashing before his eyes. Seating himself on the side of the bed next to her he gazed finally upon his lover's face, noticing the red marks at her nape, the fullness of her lips, her rapid and shallow breaths drawing his attentions lower. He had no right, she was not his voluntarily, he told himself, and so he rose angrily to fetch a cold compress from the bathroom.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and for a split second she forgot what had distressed her. The sound of running water was followed by the click of bootheels across the floor towards her. She lifted her eyes to look into the ice cold visage of her former teacher and remembered. Her dismay was written across her face, and she flinched as he extended his hand towards her, trying to hand her the flannel for her forehead.  
  
"I can't say I'm very impressed with the situation either Miss Granger", he drawled, "but, I believe that we need to talk about it. I shall be in the other room when you feel well enough to discuss this." he finished, and turning on his heel he strode to the door and out into the sitting room. Hermione watched as the light from the reawakened fire and a few candles flooded the room, leaving her in the semi darkness of Professor Snape's bedroom.  
  
The shock was beginning to wear off and her emotions crashed about her, tumbling in waves, making no sense to her. Relief at finally knowing was tempered with the horror of knowing who he was. Anger at his identity was mixed with surprise and incredulation that he could possibly be the man of her dreams..literally. I need to wake up, I need to get away from here, a mantra began in her mind. She could not face him, not now, not ever. She sincerely hoped that she had not indeed travelled through time, because at least then she would have a chance of evading him for the rest of her life. God, how would he react if he thought her a student still, would he demand the talk he currently seemed to think was necessary? How would her schoolgirl self have handled it? With her head still trying to understand if she had created a temporal paradox, her heart finally got the message to her sleeping self that it was time for her to wake up and get her out of this mess, and with a slightly queasy action, Hermione slid between worlds and back into her own room...safe.  
  
He had not slept well, after waiting for her to emerge from his bedroom, he had been furious to find she had vanished without the confrontation he had been building up to. He consequently spent the night mourning the fact that he had lost her, trying to forget the remains of her scent on his pillow and the feel of her skin under his lips. He had not been shocked, he realised, some part of him had already guessed her identity, but he had decided that he really did not want to know. He had been a coward, preferring to keep them both ignorant, but he had known. He wasn't sure when he had first realised, whether it was her scent, hardly changed from her school days, or a quality in her sighs and gasps of pleasure. Not that he had heard that sort of sound emanating from her during her schooldays, he smiled wryly at the thought. There was just something, some identifying trait that meant he knew, in his heart he knew. He ran the thought round in his mind, he had not been shocked, not disappointed, not even angry, just....just humiliated, he realised. A deep pain had exploded within him at the look on her face, her loathing radiating from her, his anger had been reserved for himself.  
  
"Hermione," he moaned to himself, "I'm sorry I couldn't be someone else for you.", and at last, as the morninglight edged over the horizon, he drifted into a fitful sleep.  
  
Hermione's feelings were still a jumble, still fighting to find a supremacy. She was hurt, was angry, was disappointed, and yet, she also felt relieved to know him, the surprise was still there and a wonder. She remembered his gentleness, his passion, the way he could make her feel, and she found herself wondering if she could ever find that with someonelse. Pulling herself out of her extremely untidy bed she pulled back her curtains with a flourish. She had to find out, and to do that she needed a boyfriend, no she corrected herself mentally, she needed a man.  
  
In the event she spoke to Cassandra, it was more thorough than getting psychiatric treatment and a great deal cheaper than attending all those dating clubs. "Are you entirely serious?" Cassandra whispered, "Do you realise how rare it is to find a man like that? Girl, go and get him! I mean, how bad can he be if he is so great between the sheets?"  
  
"You have no idea" Hermione responded her misery evident in her voice, "He made my life hell, insulted me, picked on me, was truly horrible, mean and nasty, all through my school life. He had greasy hair, a hooked nose and bad teeth, he was perhaps the most repulsive person I knew and most definitely the most disagreeable. I must be mad to even contemplate what you are suggesting!" she moaned, holding her head in her hands.  
  
It had been three days, or more importantly two nights with the next one only a few hours away, since she had had her revelation. She had spent the previous nights desparately trying to prevent herself ending up back in his rooms. She was not ready to face him, and had no idea of his current opinion of her either. She was a Gryffindor with no courage, the irony escaped her for the moment.  
  
Cassandra grinned down at her, but composed herself to reply,  
  
"Honey, you're a woman, you're allowed to revise your opinion. In fact I think it is obligatory when it comes to men, although most find it is a good opinion that changes to bad." She grinned wryly. "You just like to be different. Well here is your chance. He might have been all the things you say he was, but he is also all the things he made you feel, all the passion, all the tears. He deserves a chance Hermione, and so my dear, do you." She murmured comfortingly, putting her arm around the shaking girl and giving her a quick squeeze.  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ss  
  
  
  
It had taken some time to get to this point, she thought, but she was now ready. Smoothing her hands over her hips, Hermione made sure she looked perfectly composed before slipping into bed. She drifted quickly to sleep and found herself drawn to his rooms just as she had hoped she would be. Quickly crossing the room she saw the light from his reading candle spilling under the door, calling to her like a beacon. Slowly opening the door she gazed at him sitting in his chair before the fire, a book open on his lap. He closed it purposefully and looked up at her, his face carefully blank, showing none of the emotion she was now sure he was capable of.  
  
"Severus," she whispered, "Severus, can we talk?" 


	7. Games of Skill, Games of Chance

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
A single nearly imperceptible nod was the only response from the man by the fire. Hermione settled herself into the chair opposite him, nervously wringing her hands. She still had absolutely no idea what to say to him, she wasn't ready for this confrontation, not by a long shot. It had been a month since she had last seen him. She had dreamed the dreame in that time, but knowing that she was in Hogwart's she had turned and run from his rooms, her feet automatically guiding her to her place of sanctuary. She had hidden in the tower over the west wing, deserted by the faculty and unkempt, she had often retired here during her last year at school. It was quiet, a place so deserted that even the ghosts had given up on it. To Hermione it was a place to think. She transfigured her cloak into a large armchair and positioned it so that it looked out onto the lake. Here she sat, thinking about her life, her situation, and yearning to return to her ignorant state. It had taken a long time to finally dredge up her courage enough to walk forward towards his room. She wished she waited until she had some answers before she had made the effort to face him. She still had no idea how she felt about him, about them, about what she now wanted and therefore she had nothing to say.  
  
The silence in the room was oppressive, the crackle of the fire the only counter point to her own breath. Raising her chin she noticed he was staring at her, his head slightly tilted as he waited out her discomfort, no expression showing in his eyes other than a slight curiosity.  
  
I, uhm..well that is to say., I" she tried, hoping her sentence would evolve into something other than just a rambling. "Could I possibly have a drink?" she asked lamely, her voice quavering slightly.  
  
He gathered another glass from the sitting room and poured her a glass of the rich red wine he had been drinking when she entered. His hands moved swiftly and confidently, never betraying the turmoil which raged only slightly below the surface. Such, he had found in his more introspective moments, was his natural state. His mother had once likened him to a black swan, gliding about serenely on the surface, but beneath the water he was kicking about like mad. He had always been so, inherited his nature from his father he supposed, as he only remembered a calm faced and cold individual.  
  
Severus Snape was a reactive person, dealing with people on a suspicious but courteous level until they had offended his sensibilities or at least managed to seriously upset him. Then he was on the path to vengeance, his opinion was inviolate once determined, and so he found himself constantly warring against the transgressions of those he was reluctantly surrounded by. He was unsure whether this was a particularly Slytherin trait, he did see it in a majority of his charges, or whether it was simply him. He decided that it explained his dependency on his dream state lover, he had simply reacted to her affection, to her passion. In doing so he had found his own feelings had changed, he had let his guard down and was now, looking at her tear filled eyes, regretting it. He felt guilty for revelling in her discomfort so decided to make a gesture to ease the situation.  
  
"Would you care for a game of chess Miss Granger?" he said tersely, clearly his patience was rapidly coming to an end.  
  
Hermione nodded, grateful for a non verbal excuse to remain. Severus had retrieved his set from the sitting room and set it up on the small reading table in between them. Giving Hermione the white pieces, he settled his frame back into the chair and they began a different game, a level within a level, he mused, wondering where it would lead them and what the prize might be.  
  
The game passed, players concentrating on their moves missed the inquisitive glances from their opponent. Each of them was aware that the awkwardness of their meeting tonight had not been banished, simply delayed until the game had finished.  
  
Hermione was not a particularly difficult player to beat; she had never practised enough to be able to use the standard gambits, to understand the levels of play and thought that went into each move. Severus, on the other hand played well. He was a strategist by nature, analysing all outcomes of an action was second nature to him. It had allowed him to live through his deadly game of spying for Dumbledore. Now that that was no longer required of him he found an outlet in chess, and Hermione was not surprised when he beat her soundly, although she was aware he had been toying with her.  
  
"You could have finished it ages ago." She accused him, and listening to his hiss of indrawn breath she realised he had misunderstood her.  
  
"The chess Severus, I was only talking about the chess." She whispered, watching an unknown emotion race across his face before he clamped the mask back into place.  
  
"I think I had better go." She tried again, and rising she straightened her dress and cloak. He nodded again, not trusting his voice to respond. Turning as her hand was on the handle she saw he was still watching her intently, she smiled shyly.  
  
"Thankyou for the game, Severus" she whispered.  
  
For the life of him he couldn't tell if she had meant the chess or not. Authors note;  
  
Many, many thanks for all the lovely reviews. Glad it is still catching your attention. Decided to lay off the cliff hangers, at least for this chapter.see, I do have a compassionate streak, not very wide but definitely discernible  
  
Just one mention Iscriptikus- bear this in mind honey. I fell totally, obsessionally in love with a guy who couldn't see my worth. I was devastated for years. Through 10 years I felt for him, till I meet him at a school reunion. OMG- what a lucky escape from boredom. If a guy cannot see what is before his nose, then he is not worth bothering about. I know its cliché, but it is true. All of which is a bit personal to put on an a/n, but I felt you just needed a hug. xxx 


	8. Changing the Rules

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssss  
  
He had not asked her to return, nor given her any indication that he wanted to see her again, and yet she was here again. Her hand hesitated upon the door, reluctant to impose herself if he no longer wished for her company, but unwilling not to try. Cassandra's advice was weighing on her mind, and as much as she knew that she was correct, she also reminded herself that Cassandra did not know the circumstances personally. It was one thing giving advice, but quite another thing to begin following it, especially this advice!  
  
So, here she stood, several feet from his door, hopping from one booted foot to the other, deliberating her choice of words. So much depended upon his mood, upon his reaction to her as she opened the door. She had no illusions about receiving a warm welcome from him, but she didn't want to intrude if he was in a foul temper. Screwing up her courage and repeating a mantra that she wouldn't know until she tried, she marched towards the door and knocked lightly before entering in one hurried movement..before her courage ran out.  
  
"Miss Granger, I was beginning to think you were a victim of petfiicus totallis out there in my sitting room." He drawled from his customary place near the fire. "Do come in,... finally." He smirked, dropping his eyes back to his text. Hermione couldn't help but smile, she should have known that he was aware of her lurking about in his quarters. Gracefully she took the opposite seat, picking up the glass of wine that he had already poured for her and savouring the taste of the alcohol as it warmed her stomach.  
  
As she replaced the glass she looked up at him under her lashes, trying to gain some insight into the mystery that was Severus Snape. He appeared to be concentrating on his book, his black hooded eyes were scanning the pages, all a picture of concentration. All except his index finger of his left hand which gently tapped the chair arm, it's rhythm a direct clue to the state of his emotions. Hermione watched as it picked up its pace, and smiled to herself.  
  
"Is there something amusing Miss Granger? Do share."  
  
"No, I was just wondering if you would mind if I had a look for a book to read, seeing as you don't seem to be very talkative tonight." She continued to smile at him enigmatically.  
  
What was she playing at? He suddenly felt under attack and it worried him. His survival instincts were screaming at him to watch her like a hawk..as if he didn't anyway. Waving a hand in permission towards the bookcases which lined the walls of the sitting room, he gazed at her as she inspected his collection, running her fingers across the spines. Occasionally she stopped, sometimes to turn and look at him in n inquiring manner, before continuing her search for something to read. No, he couldn't stop looking at her if he tried, he thought. He was drawn to her, the way her hair curled, the subtle sheen of chestnut where the ruddy glow of the fire caught it, the graceful sweep of her sooty lashes over cinnamon eyes. He was spell bound by her, a girl he was sure he had actively disliked just a few months ago. But how did she feel, he had no idea of her motivations for returning here.  
  
Obviously the dream had brought her, but for nearly a month he had been aware that she had simply turned from him and walked the castle rather than face him, rather than bear his company. This was only her second visit, but he felt that some of the uncomfortablness of the first had dissipated, as if time had allowed both of them to come to terms with the situation even if they had not talked through it.  
  
He was not sure if he could talk through it, if truth be told. He hated the strength of his feelings for her, he felt that it weakened him as a person. He would resort to anger, things would end badly, she would never want to see him again. He suddenly realised that he didn't want that to be the case. He needed to see her, it was his only contact with her, but he would take what ever she offered..he was truly spellbound.  
  
  
  
The evening set a pattern, Hermione would arrive every few days, the small talk between them reserved to greetings and goodbyes as they both sat in silence and read. It allowed Hermione to relax in his presence, to feel accepted. It allowed her to think about Cassandra's advice in a more dispassionate manner. So here she sat, legs drawn up underneath her on his chair by the fire. Her book lay open on her lap, forgotten as she stared at the man opposite her, trying to decide if she was truly ready to begin the next phase of their relationship.  
  
Severus was fully aware of her scrutiny, and been rigidly controlling himself not to squirm under her gaze. There was obviously something troubling her, but he had no idea what. Nothing had changed over their last few meetings, she came, they sat, they read, she left. They had settled into a safe routine, until today. She had changed the rules, or at least was thinking hard about it.  
  
"Is there a problem Miss Granger?" he drawled, wincing slightly as he recognised the fact that there were lots of problems.  
  
"Severus, do you mind me coming here?" she asked, her head on one side she was watching him for any clues about his thoughts.  
  
"I enjoy your company, if that is your question. I would have said if I would prefer you not to return." His voice showed no emotion in particular, but his eyes were soft, willing her to continue.  
  
"I just wondered...you know..if you were happy with things as they are?" she pulled a face showing him just how awkward the question had been for her to ask. Luckily for Hermione it was the best question she could have asked at the time.  
  
"No Miss Granger, I am far from satisfied." He said, his emphasis on the last word causing Hermione to blush and giggle slightly at the same time.  
  
It was all that was required to break the ice between them. They both sat still and smiled at each other before returning to their respective books. Hermione had no idea what she was reading, her heart was beating far too fast for her to make any sense of it. Her concentration was gone, the only thing she could think of was Severus' look as he had practically told her he wanted her. Her time to leave was drawing near, she could feel the pull of her sleeping self as she struggled to wake. She rose, placing her book carefully on his side table. He looked up at her, a slight expectation in his eyes as he laid down his book.  
  
"I have to go now. I'll return when I can, maybe we could go for a walk next time, do something.uhm, different?" she queried, stepping towards him. He nodded, watching her intentions with a slight suspicion in his eyes. She bent and dropped a brief kiss against his cheek, causing him to breath in deeply.  
  
"Hermione, you are playing with fire you know." He said, his velvet voice touched with desire as he rose from his chair to face her.  
  
Hermione stood still, not allowing him to intimidate her, and placed her hands on his waist as she leaned towards him to place another kiss on his cheek.  
  
"No, Severus, you're not fire, you're ice, and ice always burns twice as badly. But I'm willing to try though; I miss you too much not to try." She breathed into his ear, gently pushing his hair back as she planted another kiss on his cheek before the world moved and she was pulled back into her own self.  
  
  
  
Author's Note;  
  
Nothing to say except...PLEASE REVIEW..like Severus I hate to grovel. 


	9. Distance

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)  
It had taken her several days to pluck up the courage to dream the dreame again. She found that with the knowledge of the differences between the feelings of slipping into sleep and dreaming normally and the world altered feeling of the Dreame, she could to some degree control when she was likely to end up in Severus' rooms. It was by no means accurate, but it gave her a little peace of mind. She had needed the last few days simply to screw her courage up tightly in order to face him again. Looking back at her behaviour she could not quite believe she had been so forward.  
  
The look of warning in his eyes had spurred her on, the look of astonishment had simply encouraged her boldness. She had found a desire to shock him, to make him show her his emotions. She knew it was childish, his feelings were often on display if you cared to look for the minute signs and knew him well enough to interpret them. Hermione was learning, but sometimes it was just too delicious to resist, to make his face react to his heart.  
  
No light was waiting for her on the other side of the door. The fire was banked, its low heat keeping the room just this side of being chilly, and its dull glow swathing the room in a red gloom. Two glasses sat on the table, one full, the other as if Severus had already been drinking this evening. His book was laid carefully on the table, a green velvet place marker showing the readers progress. Hermione was puzzled, where was he? He was always waiting for her in this room, in this very same chair for months. Grabbing a cloak from behind the door, she turned and went to look for him.  
  
He was not in his office, or in the potions classroom. Nothing had looked amiss, nothing out of the ordinary. Not knowing where else to look, Hermione decided to go for the walk she had promised both of them. At least it would give her something to do rather than twiddle her thumbs and look desperate for his company, she thought with a tinge of annoyance.  
  
"You are very lucky Mr Ramsbotham." The nurse's busy hands fussed around the bandage swathed boy, but her tone was as hard as Severus had heard from the mediwitch. "How Professor Snape managed to stop the bleeding long enough to get you to me is a miracle. Without him, you would be dead!" she stated, watching as the boys eyes widened in shock. Severus nodded grimly, his scowl deepening as he looked into the scared boy's eyes.  
  
"Although Mr Ramsbotham may wish I was not quite so efficient once I have handed out his detentions and points loss. I really don't think Gryffindor can afford this type of behaviour at the moment." he smirked, thinking of the 30 point advantage his Slytherins currently held. With both Harry Potter's sporting abilities and Hermione Grangers brains no longer in the school, the Slytherins were once more the top house, winning the cup on most occasions. Shit, Hermione. His smirk vanished, replaced by a slightly panicked look at his watch.  
  
"I'll leave him in your capable care then Madame Pomphrey." He said hurriedly and swept out of the infirmary before either his colleague or her charge could find an answer.  
  
She was not in his quarters, although she had been here long enough to swipe his best cloak he noted with amusement. Deciding that she must have gone for the walk she had suggested last time, he rummaged in his armoire for another cloak and stomped out of the castle intent on finding her before she froze to death in the Scottish night air.  
The moon was full, but a deep field of cloud was alternatively obscuring and revealing its creamy light. His footsteps automatically gravitated towards the lake and he found himself rewarded when he noticed her black shrouded figure by the lakes edge. Bootheels clicking on the wooden dock, he strode towards her solitary figure. As he reached her she whipped around, wand at the ready, a spell on her lips as she ready herself for an attack.  
  
"Hermione, it's me..Severus. Do you think you could bring yourself to point that thing somewhere else." His voice was slightly amused, especially since now he was close to her he could see that it was not a wand, but simply a twig.  
  
She shrugged ruefully." I can't seem to bring my wand with me. I thought that this may be a deterrent." She half smiled, turning back towards the lake. She was still miffed at his absence. Severus stepped up behind her, wrapping his cloak around them both as he pulled back into his arms. She rested against him, snuggling into the warmth of his cloak. The moon had retreated once again, and the couple found themselves plunged into blackness once more.  
  
"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you arrived. A minor emergency erupted." He mentioned.  
  
"What happened?" she asked , her voice still slightly flat with her annoyance.  
  
"Bloody Gryffindors is what happened!" he started, " Apparently with second floor girls bathroom is known to be the ideal place to brew illegal potions of any description. "he drawled, noticing the slight tensing of her shoulders. "Sorry" she whispered, trying hard not to giggle. "What damage was there?"  
  
"To the room nothing unrepairable, although I believe Mrytle was rather upset. Ramsbotham managed to cause an explosion loud enough for Filch to hear it and come running to me, luckily for the boy. He was severely cut from flying mirror shards, I had to attempt some on the spot healing before I could take him to Poppy. Damn idiot, should never have been in there!" he exclaimed,  
  
"Tell me Hermione, why exactly do Gryffindors think that they can brew the most complicated potions in secret, when most of them are incapable of the simplest of potions in my classroom?" although the question was rhetorical he seemed to be looking for an answer.  
  
Hermione turned in his arms, the darkness and the feelings of guilt about her earlier fit of pique when he had been simply helping an injured child were too much for her. She melted into him and felt herself instantly transported back to a time when she didn't know who he was, when she loved her dreame man, when she felt loved in return. The kiss was deep and sensual, her hands catching in his hair as they sought to devour each other. The breaking of their barriers causing the floodgates to wrench open, they responded to each other as their desires truly wished. For a time they were supremely happy.  
  
"No!" she whispered harshly, pulling away from him, the moonlight returning to flash in her terrified eyes. Realisation had come back in full measure, visions of her dreaded teacher, of cruelty and submission. His arms, a minute ago providing proof of his desire for her, now simply imprisioned her. Feeling trapped she struggled to get free, wrenching herself from his grasp.  
  
She was horrified by her own ability to be so wanton, to want him so badly that she forgot to think. Severus' arms slackened around her, the rigid set of her body convincing him that the best course of action for him was to let her go..at least for now.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"No. I can't do this! You are not my dream. You are not the man I want." Her voice rose, fear and tears rushing forward to make her sobs louder. Ignoring the hurt in Snapes eyes, guilt forced her to continue, pulling further away from him, reviling him as she distanced herself. With a final sob she pushed passed him and ran headlong into the night, towards the castle.  
  
Snape stood stock still, his eyes glazed in shock, his heart barely beating. A solitary tear glistened in the silver moonlight before he gathered his thoughts, turning on his heel and stalked back to his dungeons with his cloak fluttering in the night air. 


	10. Realisation

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.  
  
Huge thanks to my beta Kellye, she's brilliant---what more can I say! sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss  
"You did what! Merlin, Hermione. You didn't even have your wand with you. He could have hexed you into oblivion!! I bloody would have, if it was me" Cassandra turned angrily to pace up and down the confined space of the second floor ladies bathroom in the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Hermione's already watering eyes gave up the struggle of keeping back the tears and they cascaded down her cheeks in a silent flood.  
  
"Why? Just tell me what you were thinking. Everything was going so well." Her voice trailed off with exasperation as she settled herself on the edge of the counter and waited for the sobbing Hermione to explain.  
  
"Oh Cass, it wasn't as if I planned it." Hermione moaned, wringing her sodden handkerchief between her hands. " I just suddenly felt trapped. All the feelings of hurt and anger that I had bottled up over seven years of being his pupil just exploded. I didn't think, I was too scared to think. I just suddenly felt a desperate desire to be as far as possible from him. I just felt a complete revulsion for what I was feeling. I..."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Go back there a bit. You felt guilty for being happy?"  
  
"Yes, yes I suppose I did."  
  
"Have you told Harry and Ron about this yet?" Cass questioned more gently this time.  
  
"No, I mean, just how do I explain this to them. Sorry guys, you know the man who you absolutely hated at school, well we are shagging like bunnies so please be happy for me!"  
  
"There is no need for the sarcasm Hermione." Cass snorted, totally unaware of how Hermione's tone mimicked the man himself..  
  
"Sorry Cass. I just don't know what to tell them, let alone how. They are going to be so hurt."  
  
"So it was better to hurt him and yourself?"  
  
The silence in the bathroom was total until Hermione's whispered, "Yes."  
  
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
If Severus's colleagues and students had thought that they had seen him in a bad mood earlier in the year, it was nothing compared to the black rage they now saw. Unless there was an extremely pressing reason to talk to him, everyone without exception avoided him. Classes were taught with the minimum of talking. Detentions were handed out with abandon, all to be taken with other teachers, as Severus did not want to spend a second longer in company than he was required to by contract. Even the Slytherins tiptoed around him, hoping not to attract any of his scowling attention.  
  
Dumbledore had tried speaking to him. The interview had been exceptionally short. The only words spoken by Snape being those of dismissal. Albus had left the dungeon heavy of heart. He had been so glad to see the couple making progress. He understood Hermione's reservations, but he also understood how much they both served to gain from this relationship. If this was not to stop right here, then Miss Granger was going to have to do some serious grovelling, he decided. Time to meddle a little, he thought, his blue eyes twinkling again as plans whizzed around his head.  
  
The headaches were getting worse, pounding, her vision becoming blurred. She needed to sleep, not the half awake scared fitful sleep she had endured for the last week, but to really sleep, to dream without fear. This she knew, she just hadn't been ready for any unexpected trips.  
  
Slowly pulling the covers up to her chin, she snuggled below her covers. If she did end up back in Severus' rooms, she would simply turn and leave. He would probably prefer it that way anyway.  
  
Her eyes opened to his darkened rooms, the layout now as familiar as her own, even in the half light created by the smouldering fire in the grate. Turning, straining her eyes to catch any sound which emanated from his room, she left his quarters, not knowing where her feet would carry her.  
  
As it happened, she found herself up in the astronomy tower, gazing towards the lake, her memories replaying themselves through her head. The look of total devastation in his eyes was enough to make her weep again, tears of anguish, tears of guilt. She had been wrong, she saw that now. She had been so wrong. All her doubts and worries had built up, being pushed to the back of her mind rather than being dealt with. Through all her conversations with Severus, they had never discussed this aspect of their relationship. They had needed to talk, but they were so busy tiptoeing around each other, that they did not yet have the confidence to be so open to each other. Would they make it public? What would they tell people? How would they deal with the inevitable backlash of feeling that this would cause in some quarters. The realisation that she needed to get him to talk, to seriously talk about their feelings, was not the happy revelation she expected. She simply could not think of a more unlikely scenario than Severus' declaring his heart to her. After their last encounter, it was just not going to happen.  
  
Deep in thought, Hermione did not hear the light footsteps of the headmaster, nor did she sense his presence, until he put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Aargh!"  
  
"I'm terribly sorry Miss Granger, I had not meant to frighten the life out of you, my dear. You seemed a little pre-occupied?" he questioned, gracefully flopping into a comfy armchair he had just transfigured from an old telescope tarpaulin sitting in the corner of the room.  
  
Hermione tried to still her racing heart, as she struggled with an answer. Just how much did she want to divulge? Just how much did he already know? Deciding that she needed as many allies as possible for the forthcoming battle, she sat down on the dusty floor, tucking her knees up and leaning against the tower's wall. She rested her crossed arms on her drawn up knees, and her chin on top of that and looked into the innocent gaze of the most powerful wizard she had ever met.  
  
"Do you know why I am here?"  
  
"Is this a meaning of life type of question or more specifically in this tower, Miss Granger?" he queried, his hands steepling in front of him.  
  
"No. I think it is more of a how am I here question actually. Did you bring me here Sir?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for an answer.  
  
"No my dear. I had nothing to do with your dreams. There is only one power that could have been pulled you through realities."  
  
Hermione sat up, her attention completely caught by the old wizard's words. "What?" she asked, dreading the answer.  
  
"Hermione, what is the most powerful emotion in this world?" he queried, smiling at her whispered answer.  
  
"Yes, my dear. You are quite correct. Love is the most powerful, in all its many forms. The human need for love causes us to do the most illogical things, all of us. Although you had the love of your parents, the love of friendship and companions, still you yearned for something else. You needed the love of a partner, a friend who was more than just a friend, a companion to share your innermost thoughts.  
  
This yearning my dear, it is quite natural, and every one of us single folks, and unfortunately quite a few married ones too, we all seek it. Desperately needing it to light our days.  
  
As for why you managed to cross the realities, my best guess would be this. When you dream, my dear, when your heart soars and you imagine your deepest desires and fears, there are forces which come to bear. The borders between reality and dreams are fluid, their definition hazy. Many are the sad wretches who have found themselves caught on the wrong side of that border Hermione. These people walk this world, but live in their own minds, dreaming their fantasies to the exclusion of real life. Their dreams become their reality, until they are no longer content without their dream world. Some will try to fashion reality into their dreams, moulding this world into their own. It never works Hermione. Although the borders are hazy, they still exist, and they exist for a reason. To protect us, and to protect this reality and the many others which exist."  
  
"Voldemort" she whispered," he was such a dreamer, wasn't he?"  
  
"Yes my dear, I believe that he was. He tried to mould the world, as have many before him. This world, both Muggle and Wizarding has its fair share of dreamers Hermione. Some are harmless, caught up in fantasy war games, copying their favourite characters, filling their lives with meaningless ritual. Some allow for beautiful artistry and wonderful new innovations which benefit the rest of humanity as well as their own souls. However, for some, for those unlucky few, their dreams are egocentric. Their fulfilment damages many others, and so these are the people we fear and revile. They are simply dreamers Hermione, it is their weakness, it is the way to destroy them, to contain them. It is also their greatest strength, their escape route from all consequences."  
  
"But why could I cross the line?"  
  
"Because it was not just you dreaming my dear. I believe that Severus was also dreaming, yearning for the same contact as yourself, hoping for the love you found together. Your two minds called to each other in the ether of the dream world, and made a connection. You managed to cross the border into this reality because you are both very powerful Hermione, and you both wanted this dream with all your hearts. You chose for this dream to become special, you chose to make this dream real. You both chose this Hermione, and the fact that you managed to come here, even after you knew his identity, proves the feelings of your heart, even if you are having difficulty reconciling that to the logic of your head.  
  
Don't fear him Hermione, he is simply the other half of the dream." The old man raised himself from the chair, tucking his hands inside his sleeves.  
  
"I'll leave you to think on it." he said, gliding towards the door.  
  
"Thank you" she whispered, her words choked by the tears which ran freely down her cheeks. "Thank you"  
  
"I'm glad to help my dear. Always." He smiled and left, supremely happy about the outcome of this little talk, closing the door behind him.  
  
I chose this. I chose him. I choose this dream to be my reality, she thought to herself. It ran around her head, returning to chime again and again, until she knew, knew with absolute certainty that this is what she wanted. He was what she wanted. Damn the consequences. If her friends loved her then they would understand, they would come round eventually. She could, if the worst came to the worst, live without them. She was not sure that she could live without him. Not live as she needed to, as she desperately wanted to. She had been caught in her dream too long to let it go now.  
  
Dreams and reality were one thing, but getting Severus to forgive her, that would be a whole different ball game. She sighed deeply and dusted off her creased cloak. She needed to begin as soon as possible, before her conviction wavered.  
  
The door to his bedroom was shut, as it always had been, the light spilling out from under it showed that he was still awake, aware of her presence no doubt. She put her trembling hand on the old handle, its feel well remembered beneath her fingers. Now or never Hermione, she told herself, as she turned the handle, adrenalin pumping through every fibre of her being.  
  
It was locked! 


	11. renewing aquaintances

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return (although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed.  
  
Many thanks due to my wonderful beta- Kellye you are a star!  
  
Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssssssss  
  
She rattled the handle slightly, vaguely hoping that it was simply being awkward. It didn't budge, he had indeed locked her out. Taking a big breath to calm her nerves Hermione called out to him.  
  
"Severus? Severus, please open the door. I need to speak to you. I need to explain what happened. Please." The last word came out as a childish whine and she cringed hearing herself beg.  
  
The door remained locked, the inhabitant of the room beyond broodingly silent. She could feel the wards around the door and knew that a simple Alohamora was not going to work this time. She needed to persuade him to open the door himself, or at least hire in Bill Weasley, ward breaker extraordinaire..she wasn't sure which scenario was more unlikely.  
  
"Severus! Please let me in, I can't carry on without explaining this. We need to talk!" she called through the door, hints of desperation colouring her voice. She suddenly jumped back as written large across the door in flaming words a message appeared,  
  
"GO AWAY!"  
  
"Oh for Merlin's sake, stop acting like the Wizard of Oz and get your backside out here! We need to talk Severus. I can't do this alone. I love you, I want you in my life, and I am not letting you get away without at least talking this through!!" she yelled, bashing her fist on the door repeatedly in emphasis to her words.  
  
Okay, not the measured calm approach she was trying to adopt, but he drove her mad, and he needed a kick sometimes, even if it was the door that got the punishment instead of him. The door remained locked.  
  
Deciding to retreat and regroup, Hermione left, waking from her dream to find her fist red raw and tears drenching her pillow. Oh Severus, she thought, please, just give me one last chance.  
  
Cassandra was stumped. Hermione had explained the gist of the headmaster's words and told her of the little scene in Severus' living room. She was now expected to come up with a plan which would extricate the reluctant professor from his room long enough for Hermione to persuade him of her undying affections and get him to reciprocate. This was not an easy task by any means, and had taken careful planning through several lunch breaks to discard all the unlikely, bad and just plain dangerous ideas which they managed to come up with.  
  
"Well, the only choice I can see is that you go in person, forget this dreaming lark and take him by surprise, so to speak." Cassandra smirked at the sudden look of shock and delight which crossed Hermione's features.  
  
"Of course! It is so obvious Cass. It is the only way. I'll need to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore and get his permission to sneak around. I could set a few wards so that Severus gets stuck in the same room as me. I could refuse to let him out until he talks to me! It is perfect. A perfect plan!" she trilled, her voice rising with her as she whirled around the staff canteen, her hair and white coat spilling out around her in her happiness.  
  
"Hermione, are you alright?" a worried male voice intoned. She stopped spinning suddenly, nausea hitting her as her motion stopped, and looked straight into the spectacle-rimmed green eyes she least wanted to see.  
  
"Harry?" she gasped, holding her heaving chest, suddenly looking both guilty and pleased, like a cat caught raiding Sunday lunch.  
  
"Ron is just up saying hello to his Dad, he'll be down in a minute." Harry continued, pulling out a chair and looking at Hermione with increasing concern. "Are you sure you're alright? You look a bit .well, you looked nuts when I walked in, to be honest." He grinned slightly, watching as the red of her blush spread up her cheeks.  
  
"I'm fine, just fine Harry. Just happy to have finally figured something out." she explained, forcing herself to keep eye contact.  
  
"Uh, ummmm" Cassandra cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner.  
  
"Oh, sorry Cass. May I introduce Cassandra Crump, she works with me here in the lab and has been totally invaluable. Cassandra, this is Harry, Harry Potter." Hermione waited for the realisation to sink in, waited for the look or the shriek of excitement, or at the very least a gushing hello. She was quite surprised when Cass restrained herself to a simple hello and handshake, although the following leer when Harry's attention had wandered put Hermione's mind at rest. Trust Cass, she thought. I like my friends to be predictable.  
  
"Harry, you should have told me you were coming. I have already had lunch. Are you two around this evening? I could cook for you." There was a conversation that they needed to have, and the fewer onlookers the better. Hermione was not looking forward to this talk.  
  
"Yeah, no problem. You get back to the grind stone, and Ron and I will pop around to yours about 7ish?" his voice rose slightly, questioning the time. Hermione simply nodded and kissed his cheek.  
  
"See you then. Come on Cass, we're late." She grinned as Cass, safely out of sight of Harry, mimed exactly how she wanted to say goodbye.  
  
Dinner was the usual affair of catching up on gossip, Ron's family news, and Harry's successes on the pitch. Hermione had decided to leave her news until all the cutlery and breakable china had been put back into the kitchen. If she was quiet, a little subdued when they asked her about her news, the boys didn't seem to notice.  
  
The lull in the conversation was her opportunity, and so with shaking hands stuffed into her lap she tremulously began.  
  
"Uhm, guys, there is something I had been meaning..that is to say, that I need to discuss with you. I need to tell you, before anyone else knows.um, finds out." she began.  
  
"Finally! I was beginning to wonder when you'd tell us!" Ron exclaimed, grinning at her. "So, who is the father?"  
  
"Pardon!" the indignant Hermione spluttered, "I'm not pregnant!" she lapsed into silence, scowling at the red faced Weasley who was looking apologetic and trying to disappear into his chair.  
  
"What the hell made you think I was pregnant? I'm exactly the same weight I was last time you saw me." she grumped, her arms folded across the dinner table.  
  
"Hermione, with the birth rate in the Weasley households, a guy soon learns the signs before any weight gain happens." He sounded slightly superior, which earned him a bigger scowl from the angry witch. "You just had this glow, you know, that certain happiness glow. I just presumed that it was the baby glow." He was whining now, desperate for her to forgive him slightly. "Sorry."  
  
She was still making her mouth into a small pursed shape, looking slightly like she had just tasted a lemon. "Well, you're wrong, I'm not. The "glow" is cos I've realised something." She stopped, gathering her words and courage as she looked her two best friends in the face. "I'm in love."  
  
"Great!" they both said, relieved that this normal happening was all that she needed to tell them. She had been scaring Harry, who was imagining all sorts of problems, so simply being in love was, for a split second, complete relief.  
  
Hermione grinned, delighted by the sudden good humour, but aware that she had to complete her confession. She was expecting Harry's question, but his tone shocked her.  
  
"Who is it Hermione?" he asked. It was a simple question, but the suspicion colouring his voice was thick, causing even Ron to fall into silence.  
  
"I met someone." she began, valiantly trying to meet his eyes. "I know you won't like this, neither of you," she said, flicking her gaze from one to the other, "but, we make each other happy, genuinely happy. He's changed so much; he is not the man we knew."  
  
"Hermione" Ron growled slightly, "Who?"  
  
"Snape," she whispered, watching as shocked realisation crossed both their faces. "Severus Snape." she said again, a little louder this time, taking a perverse satisfaction in hearing herself say the words. "I am in love with Severus Snape, and the truly miraculous thing is," she paused for dramatic effect, watching the play of emotions on the boy's faces, "he is in love with me!" she finished smugly.  
  
Their reaction was not exactly the one she had been expecting. No screaming accusations, no questions of her sanity, nothing but a stony silence. Both the boys seemed to be too shocked to say anything. Harry gulped, and motioned to Ron with his hand, and the pair of them rose to leave.  
  
"Hermione. Hermione, I really don't know what to say." Harry stammered, his eyes blinking rapidly. "I mean, did you really think that little of us, that we."  
  
"I wasn't thinking about you at all. I was thinking about me; about me and Severus. I'm sorry if it offends you Harry but."  
  
"No," he interrupted, "it doesn't offend us Hermione. What offends us is that you didn't trust us enough to tell us before now. We aren't kids any more Mione. The path we trod to become adults was tough, tough enough to show us the man Snape is. I might not like him much, but I do respect him. We both do." Harry said, and Ron was nodding his confirmation.  
  
"We watched him fight for our cause, knew about his spy activities, the danger he put himself in nightly for the cause of light. I know you weren't there for the final battle Hermione, but if you had seen him,... what he did for all of us. Maybe then you would understand." Harry's eyes glazed, dredging up scenes of mayhem and terror as he remembered that night.  
  
"God Hermione!" the red head exclaimed, "How could you not realise that we would be there for you? How could you not trust us?!" his voice broke with the emotion he was bottling up. Harry touched his arm gently, giving what little support he could, sharing their sense of betrayal.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and said, "If you are truly set on this path, then we will support you. But think Hermione, make sure that you are doing this for the right reasons. Make sure that you really mean it, cos I can't see Snape as the casual fling sort." He turned and started to move towards the door to collect their cloaks. "I really do hope this works out Hermione. I'll give you a call later next week." He handed Ron his cloak.  
  
"Come on mate, let's go. Our friend here has some serious thinking to do."  
  
Ron nodded, "Bye Hermione," he said, the anger in his voice replaced with regret.  
  
After the boys had left she sat on the sofa, knees pulled up supporting a large tub of rapidly thawing ice cream which she swirled with her spoon. She had given up trying to eat it at least half an hour ago. Her self righteousness had faded into a mire of guilt and self-recrimination. She felt absolutely horrible. She really didn't know Harry and Ron anymore, she still saw them as the boys, as two-thirds of the troublesome trio. That much was very clear to her.  
  
She hadn't been there at the final battle, not in the melee of fighting on the castle lawns. When Poppy had been injured by falling masonry, Hermione had been pushed into the role of mediwitch to the hundreds of casualties streaming through the infirmary doors. Although at the time she had been champing at the bit to get outside into the fighting, she had in time come to terms with her role. She had recognised the greater contribution she had made as a healer, rather than a curse caster and found her conscience salved to some degree. Now though, now she regretted that she hadn't been there for them. She felt like she had been left behind, sheltered not only from the danger, but also from the knowledge and maturity that the boys seemed to have gained. The wound of her guilt was freshly open again and she felt as if she had betrayed them all.  
  
The ice cream had dribbled down the side of the pot and left a cold sticky mess on her skirt. It's coldness on her thigh cut through her introspection to rouse her to action. Getting up, she deposited the pot in the bin and grabbed her wand, quickly cleaning herself and the flat. She had made her decision. She knew what she wanted. The boys were no longer a guilt-ridden obstacle in the path she really wished to tread. She was free.  
  
Her next move, she thought, remembering how hopeless she had been at chess when she had played Severus before, would have to be approved by Professor Dumbledore. So bearing that in mind, she readied herself for bed, fully prepared to turn smartly out of Snape's rooms and find the headmaster.  
  
Sometimes Hermione, she thought to herself, just sometimes the luck runs your way, and even I can challenge a master player. Please let that sometime be tonight, she whispered to herself, as she drifted off to sleep.  
  
Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssss  
  
Please review, it makes my day. ;o) 


	12. Preparations for battle

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return (although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed.  
  
Many thanks due to my wonderful beta- Kellye you are a star!  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssssssssss  
  
In the last week Severus felt he had finally been to hell. Totally rejected, he had felt his heart shatter at the look in her eyes. Nursing his grief, he had retreated into his shell, presenting a cold and unfeeling exterior to all who encountered him in the course of his repetitive days. Inside he seethed, rage, cold yet burning, ran through his veins, erupting at the slightest provocation. He wallowed in his feelings whilst showing nothing to his encapsulated audience but a vindictive bad temper.  
  
Time was passing, and yet his anger had not mellowed. Evenings were spent broodingly alone, ignoring her demands to talk. He couldn't trust himself to talk to her; he had no idea of the course of his actions if he were to set eyes on her tear-stained face. Would he retaliate or could he forgive her, bring her into his arms and end this charade? He could not be sure; could not rule out the possibility that he wouldn't simply cast a curse he might later regret. His rage had a life of its own, feeding on his brooding despair until he could no longer be sure that it wouldn't control his actions.  
  
Moments of pained introspection had lead him to think about his first heart ache, in his younger years. It had never seemed so painful, he mused. He had been prepared for the break up, knowing that they were not going to last, waiting for the final words to bring the relationship to an end. That, he had decided, was the difference. He had not, this time, been prepared.  
  
Before she knew his identity, when the all-encompassing darkness had hidden their features from each other, when their simple joy in each other had been enough, then he had been prepared. He had waited, knowing that one day she would know him, through chance, by deduction, by accident. She would learn his identity and run from him, just as everyone he had ever cared for had. He had been as open as he dared, and yet some part of him still waited for the parting, sheltering his inner self from the hurt he expected to come.  
  
But then, she had returned, knowingly sought his company and grown to care for him, to care for Severus the man, not the teacher she once knew and despised. And he had dared to hope; he had let his defences grow weak in the delicious knowledge that she cared for him. He had allowed himself to imagine the future, never thinking about the possibility of hurt and pain. He had been totally defenceless against the dawning horror in her eyes. He had been unprepared.  
  
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssssss  
  
Fawkes was preening his new glossy plumage when the barn owl swooped in without a by your leave and landed next to him on his perch. Squawking indignantly he shoved it off, disclaiming loudly until his master came to investigate the noise.  
  
"There, there now. Whatever is the matter? " he soothed quietly, stooping to gather the slightly stunned owl from the floor and ruffling its feathers gently. The bird held a white envelope in it's beak, and seemed to be very eager to deliver it and be on its way.  
  
"Well, I wonder who you belong to my dear?" he muttered, taking the envelope and tearing it open. Absent-mindedly he offered it a piece of bacon from his late morning snack which was still sitting untouched on a plate on his immaculate desk. It eyed him nervously, whilst trying to simultaneously watch the huge bad-tempered red creature in the corner.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger has finally written to me it seems. Are you waiting for a reply?" he queried to the owl, raising an eyebrow over a twinkling blue eye. The bird bobbed it's head up and down, clearly indicating the affirmative, so the old man settled into his chair and read the request he had been expecting ever since he had decided to put some leverage into the situation.  
  
"Ah, I see. Yes, I suppose it does create a bit of a problem if he won't even talk to you. Ah Fawkes," he said turning to his companion, " You were right you know. With a little luck, and a great deal of deception, this might just work out satisfactorily." The headmaster smiled, and taking his quill from it's rest, he penned his reply for the nervous owl to carry back to it's mistress.  
  
Hermione dug through her bag, pulling the cream envelope from her bag and hurriedly pulling the letter from inside. "See, it says he is willing to do as we asked,." she read a paragraph out loud to Cassandra, "for the sake of my continued hopes for your relationship and most particularly, school harmony." Hermione grinned at her friend. "It seems Severus has been a bit grouchy lately."  
  
"Yes, well." Cassandra said, her mouth pursed, but amusement glinting in her eyes. "At least Dumbledore is willing to help. What exactly was it we asked him to agree to? " she asked, not having seen the letter that Hermione had sent the previous evening after her dinner with the boys had descended into an evening of wallowing in self-recrimination, followed by ice-cream and a raging desire to put things right once and for all.  
  
"Well, I told him that I felt my only viable course of action was to confront Severus where he couldn't just ignore me. Although the headmaster agrees, he is advising caution. He says that confronting a wizard as powerful and, more particularly, as cranky as Severus, is never the easy option." Hermione grimaced slightly. "I am sure that Severus won't hurt me intentionally, but, well." she paused slightly.  
  
"Best to be safe," Cassandra commented, "just in case he is really pissed at you."  
  
Hermione nodded, "Professor Dumbledore has said he is willing to enter into a slight deception in order to convince Severus to attend his office; some house meeting, majorly important stuff. Then when he has entered the room, the door will shut behind him, allowing me to talk to him whilst preventing escape. I will have one hour to convince him of how I feel," she finished, feeling more upbeat about the situation now that a major obstacle to her plans was removed.  
  
"Uhm, Hermione? What happens if he decides to curse you into next week, waits an hour and then leaves? You will be able to escape yourself, won't you?" Cass questioned.  
  
Hermione looked up, slightly stunned by the question, "I hadn't thought of that," she replied, pulling another quill from her bag as she set to, drawing up a more detailed list of requirements for her golden hour meeting. She just hoped that Dumbledore would be happy about the adjustments she suddenly knew would have to be put into action.  
  
Dumbledore busied himself around the room, putting the finishing touches to the wards and protections that would contain the potions master and Hermione for the next hour. His refinements allowed Hermione to control the door and break the wards, but no amount of force from Severus would be able to weaken them; or at least the headmaster hoped that Severus would have to stay put. He was wary of the younger man's powers, knowing that although he rarely used his wand, he was, once driven to it, very proficient in its use, and was easily the second most powerful wizard on the staff of Hogwarts, after himself of course.  
"Fawkes old boy, I do hope you are up to taking care of her for me," the headmaster queried, peering through his half-moon spectacles at the dozing bird. Fawkes simply nodded once, settling himself down for a light snooze.  
  
Hermione had arrived quietly, sneaking though the passageway from the shrieking shack back into Hogwarts. Carefully, making sure that she timed her arrival for the middle of a class, she crept through the familiar corridors and up to the headmaster's study. The password duly given, she made her way up the revolving staircase and along the short corridor which lead to the cozy room.  
  
"Come in, come in Miss Granger, " his voice called, the door creaking open by itself to reveal the elderly wizard beaming madly, his hands still busy spinning the complex web of wards around the door as she entered. "There, all sorted for your little meeting. Fawkes has generously decided to stay. If anything untoward happens you can rely on his help. I'll leave you in peace now. Severus should be here in a few minutes. Good luck Miss Granger. I do wish you both the best my child," he said, gently squeezing the silent Hermione's shoulder as he passed by her.  
  
Turning to catch him before he left the room she called out, "Thank you sir. Thank you for this chance; you have no idea how much it means to me."  
  
"Not to worry my dear. I was young once you know; hard to believe I'm sure, but I do sympathise with you. Let me know how you get on." Cheerily smiling, he left, leaving Hermione and his phoenix to wait for the potions master to arrive. . Hermione paced, glancing warily at the clock which ticked loudly from above the mantle place. He should be here for the meeting at four o'clock. That gave her ten minutes, the longest ten minutes of her life, in order to worry, panic, fret and generally decide that this was possibly not the smartest move she had ever made. Sinking wearily into one of the upholstered chairs that faced the fire, she faced down her inner demons.  
  
"This is the right move Hermione. You need to do this, for him, for you, for the two of you." The mantra continued in her head, reminding her of the man she was setting out to convince; reminding her of what she stood to gain and lose should this gambit not work. Fawkes sat and cocked his head, listening to the girl and thanking the god of phoenixes that he didn't have the same problems.  
  
The clock had only moved three minutes, although it felt like hours. Hermione sat and stared at the flames, running through her arguments in her head. She knew that however logical it all seemed when she had discussed it over the canteen table, it would not be quite so clear-cut when she tried to make him understand. She knew that this would be her last effort. If this did not work, she could not see how any other action would make him change his mind. This knowledge, more than any other, was what was scaring Hermione. She was staking her whole hand on being able to make him listen to her today, and she was aware that it was not as simple as just getting him in the same room.  
  
She jumped when the door creaked open. She had not seen the clock's hands as they seemed to race through the final seven minutes. Severus was exceptionally punctual, as expected, and had arrived in his usual superior way, flourishing his teaching robes slightly as he swept into the room, searching for the headmaster's figure. He had not expected the sudden surge of magic as the door closed behind him; the wards activating had set off his inner alarm bells so that he turned and quickly inspected the handiwork of their maker. Seeing Dumbledore's hand in the setting of the wards, he relaxed somewhat, and was certainly not expecting the shock on turning back into the room of finding himself face-to-face across a ten foot carpet with a shaking Hermione Granger.  
  
"Hello Severus." 


	13. A serious misjudgement

Chapter 12 Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return (although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going.  
  
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed.  
  
Many thanks due to my wonderful beta, without whom this story would be much the poorer- Kellye you are a star!  
Time stood still, one measurable second stretched to fill an eternity of silence as they gauged each other warily. The room was charged with emotions, which seemed to crackle, thick as a closing storm. Hermione, aware as she had never been before of the magical power of the man before her, trembled where she stood. She could not tell if her reaction was from the frisson of fear which brought the hairs on the back of her neck to attention, or whether the emotion that charged through her veins was also affecting her ability to stand upright. All she knew for certain was that, although it had seemed the only course of action open to her, it did not now seem such a good idea.  
  
The man stood before her, wand in hand, but held casually by his side; she had never even seen him reach for it. What scared her most was the total lack of expression in his eyes. He stood before her as if he had been turned to stone, a silent, pale statue with no feelings.  
  
"Would you care for some tea?" she asked, gesturing towards the chair by the fire. She hoped that he would sit; she wasn't sure how much longer her legs would last. He inclined his head once, a sharp nod that reminded Hermione of nothing more than a bird. Striding past her, his robes flapped against her leg as he moved to occupy one of the chairs. Sighing a little with relief, Hermione moved to the other chair and busied herself pouring tea, hoping that the activity (and the delay) would help order her mind.  
  
She handed him his cup, allowing their fingers to touch slightly as she removed her hand. The electricity that arced between them was, for a millisecond, quite visible in the late afternoon gloom of the Headmaster's study. Hermione jumped, pulling her hand back and cradling it in her lap. Searching his eyes she saw nothing, no recognition, no emotion, nothing but anger and suspicion.  
  
"Severus, I'm sorry to trick you into this meeting, but I couldn't think of any other way to get you to speak to me." She kept her eyes on his, hoping that the eye contact would convince him of her sincerity. He did not acknowledge her apology, but instead sipped his tea and remained silent.  
  
"Severus, please! I am really sorry for my actions by the lake. I need to explain what went wrong; we need to work through this." Her voice was tinged with the defensiveness she could feel raging through her. Why wasn't he reacting? She had expected a huge raging fit because of her deception, followed by sulking and eventual reconciliation. She hadn't expected to get off lightly, but she hadn't expected that he would be able to ignore her presence completely either.  
  
Checking that he had not cast a silencing spell on her whilst she was unaware, she continued her efforts.  
  
"Love, please let me come back. I miss you so much. I love you," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned forward and placed her hand on top of his. Severus violently pulled away from her, wiping his hand against his teaching robes, as if subconsciously he was disgusted by her touch. It was a move calculated to hurt, and it worked.  
  
Hermione smothered a gasp and rose quickly, turning towards the mantelpiece to cling to its support, her hand covering the tears which had sprung into her eyes. Sobbing uncontrollably, she turned to him, her hair flying about her head as she cried out her hurt, "How could you? I love you. Doesn't that mean anything to you anymore? I thought you loved me. I know you love me. Please, Severus, we can't just let this go like this. We need each other." Her voice broke, the sobs wracking her body as she became more impassioned. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't control my feelings. You made me feel guilty about my activities during my schooldays, and I was angry about you not being there, and I was worried about Harry and Ron, and it all just became too much. Everything you ever did to upset me all came flooding back. I was scared." she gabbled, interspersed with sobs until her tirade came to a shivering halt, her hands twisting the fabric of her robes, and the tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
Severus purposefully placed his cup on the side table between the chairs and rose to his full height. Wrapping his robes around himself in his most menacing manner, he finally broke his silence.  
  
"Are you quite finished now?" he asked stonily. "Then can I presume that I am free to leave Miss Granger? "he drawled, his velvet voice filled with the anger reflected in his eyes.  
  
He turned and walked towards the door, stopping momentarily for Hermione to alter the wards enough to let him pass.  
  
"What can I do to ever persuade you Severus? What did I do that was so unforgivable?" she asked, feeling like a little girl in his presence.  
  
He paused, and turning his head slightly, he spoke to her over his shoulder, never meeting her face. "Since the death of Voldemort, the one thing I have treasured more than any other is the freedom of choice I now enjoy. Being held captive by an overly emotional girl who is desperately trying to force my reactions to her benefit, does not make me conducive to any conversation. You have seriously misjudged me Miss Granger. Good Afternoon."  
  
Listening to his bootheels as he strode away from her, back to his dungeon, she realised that she should have known. She should have anticipated his disgust at such a tactic. Force was never going to work with Severus; he had become used to being forced to go against his heart for so long that he had become disgusted by it. She had failed. She had lost him.  
  
A month had passed since her last meeting with Severus, a long lonely month filled with her tears and anger. The initial grief had been replaced by a shortly held anger at his resistance that had finally begun to mellow into a deep-set regret. Harry and Ron had come to see her. With the topics of safe conversation having finally all been discussed, they had left. Hermione knew that they meant well, but their comforting noises and hugs had not helped her. She missed him. It was as simple as that.  
  
Worse still, the dreams had stopped.  
  
Although she could picture his rooms, could see herself open the door, feel him take her in his arms and kiss her, she was not really there. It was just an ordinary dream; the boundary had not been crossed. One of them no longer wanted the other with all their hearts and so their spell was broken.  
  
Her morning routine generally consisted of cleaning the tears from her face and trying to repair the ravages of her nocturnal grief. She missed him so much.  
  
Severus had not fared any better. He had remained moody, his anger dissipating slightly, but the sense of loss replacing it not improving his general demeanour. He had been extremely hostile to the Headmaster, ignoring anything but the most direct questions relating to school business. But with time even that anger had dulled, leaving him grouchy, but not life threatening. The students breathed a sigh of relief, but the Headmaster knew better and worried the more for the change in mood.  
  
With the change in their moods, the weather also changed, the spring days moving into full-fledged summer, the days becoming warm and lazy. School holidays were only a week away, the swallows were nesting under the eaves of Hermione's flat and the evenings became warm and clammy.  
  
The bedroom was too hot, even with her windows thrown wide open. Hermione lay on top of her cotton sheets and wished for air conditioning. What she needed was a decent spell to chill the room and circulate the air. She had been used to doing warming spells in her Scottish schooldays, but the need for cooling spells was limited to potions as a rule and so she found herself unable to bring the correct words to mind. She was tired and researching her library was surely going to be quicker than wracking her exhausted brain.  
  
Sighing in annoyance, she rose and pulling on a tee shirt to cover her modesty, pulled open the door and stepped into the hall. She realised with annoyance that she had left the lights on. Her front room door was open a crack and the light spilled through, making shadows in the hall. Suddenly feeling nervous, as if there were not a perfectly reasonable explanation for the unexpected light, Hermione crept forward, straining her ears for any sound from the room. There, a whisper of a page being turned, she caught it's sound and froze. She was certain she had not imagined it, but still she waited, needing to hear it again to make sure. Creeping nearer again, she paused at the door to put her eye to the crack.  
  
"Do come in Hermione. The cloak and dagger routine is getting tiresome," he drawled, turning to place the book by the side of the chair.  
  
She knew that voice, had dreamed about it, and thought about it for months now. He could read a shopping list and still manage to make the hair on her arms stand to attention with the delicious warm feelings that she couldn't control. Damn him, she thought, as she fought to conceal her reaction to finding him sitting in her front room.  
  
Severus' eyebrow rose, his gaze taking in her bare legs as the tee shirt just covered the top of her thighs. Her chin rose a little higher, glad that her appearance could affect him as well.  
  
"What exactly are you doing in my living room at," she glanced at the clock on the table, " 2:30 am?" Her voice was steady, a major achievement she thought, as she stood there, hands on her hips and bristling slightly.  
  
"It was not by my own volition, Miss Granger. I'm sure you know what I mean," he sneered, keeping his eyes focused on her reddening face and pointedly refusing to look at the long expanse of her legs.  
  
"Is this the first time you've been here?"  
  
"No," he retorted, refusing to allow her the satisfaction of drawing any more information from him.  
  
"How many times, Severus? How long have you been coming here?" she asked, compassion unexpectedly filling her. She knew the answer; she could feel it in her bones.  
  
"I have not kept up a running tally, but as it has been since the day after our little meeting," here his lips snarled uncontrollably, "I would say nearly 20 times," he finished, picking up his book and continuing as if her presence was of no consequence.  
  
"How?"  
  
He looked up at her, a faint frown on his face.  
  
"The dreame I presume," he answered impatiently, sweeping his hair back as he continued his efforts to read.  
  
"I guessed that," she spat, irritated by his high-handed tone. " I meant," she paused, making sure that she had his attention again, "I need to know why the spell is working the other way around now." His head was turned slightly to one side, his mouth pursed as he waited for her to continue. "Before, when I came to your room, Dumbledore explained it to me." she looked him directly in the eyes, willing him to answer the question she was hardly daring to ask. "We both wanted it Severus. It doesn't work if only one of us is committed. I came to you, Severus, because I needed to be with you. So, I ask you again. How is it possible that you are here Severus Snape? " The ache was sounding in her voice, but she couldn't have controlled it for the world.  
  
He stood, a tall black shadow in the bright glare of the 60-watt bulb above his head. His expression was as dark as his clothing as he confessed to her, taking no joy in the pronouncement that he had been dreading ever since he realised why he had returned repeatedly to her flat.  
  
"Because, Miss Granger, " he paused, struggling to spit the words out through clenched teeth, "because I don't want to be without you." 


	14. Finding desire

Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).  
  
Sorry for the long wait and the unfortunate cliffie. I promise this will be resolved asap, with a suitable citrus flavouring for all concerned.  
  
Many thanks go to my marvellous beta- twinkle, twinkle Kellye.  
  
Like Snape, I hate to grovel..so please leave a review.  
The breath that Hermione was unaware she was holding rushed noisily from her lungs, breaking the utter silence of the room, but not the uneasy tension. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and find comfort and reassurance, but he was still glaring at her warily, no more receptive than before his declaration.  
  
"Severus?" she whispered, taking a minute step toward him, hoping he would see her need.  
  
"Miss Granger!" he hissed in warning, "I seem to remember saying that this is against my conscious will." Her eyes widened at his tone and then glazed with the tears she valiantly struggled to hold back. His glare softened slightly as he saw the shocked tears. "I need time Hermione," he added in a slightly softer tone, hoping to stop the floods of weeping which were threatening.  
  
Hermione nodded her understanding, although her heart still beat loudly and her hurt still crept around her, longing to be released. "Can we talk?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper, not knowing if she had the strength of body or soul to hold a conversation with him.  
  
He nodded once, turning to sit back in the comfy chair he had recently vacated, crossing his long legs and composing himself. He gave no facial indication of his turmoil of feelings; the rush and tumble beneath the surface was glassed over by his stoic expression. Only his forefinger tapping on the chair arm showed any indication of his real state, but Hermione had noticed and it gave her a small measure of comfort to know that he was so affected.  
  
She sat on the sofa opposite his chair, playing with the edge of her tee shirt and despartely trying to fill the silent void that had descended. She didn't know what to say; he had heard everything and still he had rejected her. He seemed to be waiting for her to talk first, and yet, even after running speeches and diatribes through her head for the last month, she had nothing to say to him of any value. They sat in silence and regarded each other, the tension of expectation rising, until Severus stood suddenly causing Hermione to start.  
  
"Do you have a chess set anywhere in this flat?" he drawled, scanning the shelves in case he had missed it. Hermione smiled weakly, appreciating his conciliatory gesture, and went to rummage in the drawer of a bureau in the corner of the room. Bringing the small set with her, she set it up on the coffee table, kneeling on the floor as she did so. Severus returned to his seat, pulling it closer to the mid-height table. The table was glass topped, and her current sitting position, on her knees, legs swept underneath her, had caused her tee shirt to ride up, showing rather more thigh than was usual for Hermione. Quickly checking that she was preoccupied setting up the chess pieces, he allowed his gaze to wander, drinking in the sight of her, his eyes travelling to where his hands itched to reach.  
  
"Uh, ummm."  
  
Severus, his concentration broken, looked up into her slightly amused expression. Quickly shielding the guilt from his eyes and arrogantly sweeping his errant hair back, he turned his attention to the chessboard, determined not to let himself be caught out staring at her again. Hermione tried to solve the problem by catching the hem of her tee shirt and pulling it down to trap it beneath her knees. A strangled gasp from Severus brought her attention to the fact that this course of action only served to bring her neckline dangerously close to being nearer her waist than her neck. Blushing, she released the hem, pulling the cloth up to cover her exposed chest. When she looked up at him he was staring, a pink stain covering his cheeks as he struggled to control himself.  
  
"Sorry," she murmured, trying to keep the giggles from her voice and plainly failing. The potions master still looked slightly stunned, but he managed to nod and return his attention to the board.  
  
In a flash of Slytherin cunning, she knew she had him at a disadvantage. He might protest loudly that he was not choosing this, but his brain had obviously not told his body of his plans. She knew force would not work. She had tried and failed in that respect, but she had never even thought of using her feminine wiles. In a life spent trying to prove that she was as academically gifted as any male or pure blood, she had repressed the feminine aspect of herself. Flirting was not something that came naturally to Hermione; she felt more at ease solving a problem with her intelligence, than with her curves.  
  
A new challenge now presented itself. She had tonight; just this one night, where Severus was vulnerable to her, when she could use his desire to achieve an advantage. She might not be particularly good at chess, but she was learning from a master, and a Slytherin to boot.  
  
The game progressed slowly, far too slowly for Severus' liking. At each and every turn he found himself having to concentrate on seeing this side of the glass, not allowing his vision to pass through it to the view underneath the table. She had shifted slightly, her legs curled to the side of her, still clearly visible whenever his control wavered. He brought his gaze up to her face and found her biting her bottom lip in silent contemplation of her possible next moves. Unguarded, innocent and utterly beautiful, he mused.  
  
Had he known that she was biting her lip in order to prevent herself from giggling at the sudden shift in the potion master's mood, he would not have been pleased to say the least. It was working; she could see it in his eyes, a softening and a desire that showed exactly how much memory he retained of their earlier relationship. He was remembering their every caress, the feel of her skin and the scent of her. If someone knew him well enough to look for the signs, it was all reflected in his slightly glazed black eyes and the rapid tempo of his nervously beating forefinger.  
  
He could not remember the last few moves of the game; she had distracted him to a point where he knew that it must have been a calculated move on her part. She was not playing chess. She was playing him! He realised that she had learned from her earlier mistakes and was leading him towards checkmate with his own blessing and somewhat eager participation.  
  
"Checkmate, I believe Miss Granger," he said a few minutes later, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. His sudden realisation of his predicament had forced him to raise his game, bluffing his way out of her attack and quickly and mercilessly cutting down her defences.  
  
Hermione smiled. It was the closest game they had yet played, and she felt it rather a draw in the circumstances. Gracefully rising from his seat, Severus proffered his hand to help her rise from her position on the floor.  
  
"I believe that it is time for me to wake from this dreame, and for you to get some rest before tomorrow," he murmured, his velvet voice caressing her skin and making her legs feel weak.  
  
Hermione pulled on Severus' hands to aid her getting upright, and found that standing put her shockingly inside his personal space. She kept her eyes on his hands, which were still holding hers, his thumb gently and absentmindedly rubbing across her knuckles. Where the tension had almost disappeared a few moments before, it had now returned to an almost unbearable pitch. She was so desperate not to rush him, not to scare him away when she was so close to the break through she longed for.  
  
"Hermione. I have to go." His voice sounded dull, as if he had to struggle to produce the insincere words. "This is not a good idea."  
  
"I know," she whispered, reaching one hand up to cup his cheek, running her hand up and into the hair at his nape. Standing on tiptoe she pulled him toward her, gently placing a chaste kiss upon the cheek her hand had just caressed. She gently moved back, her hand remaining around his neck, her fingers gently teasing the soft skin. " I know, but I can't help myself, my love."  
  
He closed his eyes, clearly concentrating on the simple act of breathing, determined to regain some measure of self-control. It did not help that the loss of his vision allowed his other senses to come to the fore. He could feel her skin, the soft fingertips caressing his neck, gently smoothing the tiny hairs and setting up a delicious friction. He could smell her scent, slightly heightened from her desire, enough to make him groan with need. She was so close, so willing. All he had to do was surrender. If he gave up the fight, she would be his. If only it was in his nature.  
  
He was obviously struggling against his own emotions; she could feel the tension in his tightly held posture. He was shaking ever so slightly, clearly at odds with his normal composure. Knowing that it was now or never, Hermione stood on tip toes, gently kissing her way down his cheek, along the sweep of his jaw to rest a sweet longing kiss on his soft lips. He moaned, never opening his eyes, and pulled her to him. Gathering her as close as he could, he deepened the kiss, possessing her mouth with all the repressed passion of several months. The taste of her, the return of his feelings, the scent of their obvious arousal, cleared all conscious thought from his mind. He was decided. For now at least, he had to possess her. She was his for the taking and, Merlin help him, he was most definitely hers.  
  
The path to the bedroom was only a momentary interruption, which allowed him to gaze with lust at the length of her legs as she led him toward her room. She turned inside the door, and clasping his hands in hers, moved backwards across the room, capturing him with her eyes, with the love and desire which caged all negative thoughts he may have been harbouring on the sanity of their actions. He followed her, led like a small child, all need to run stilled.  
  
A step away from the bed, Hermione tugged at the hem of her tee shirt, drawing it over her head to the accompanied hiss of the indrawn breath of her lover. Eyes dark as obsidian glittered in the moonlight as he took his fill of the sight of her. For so long he had been denied this. For so long he had had to manage on the memory of her form. Hands moving automatically, he hastily pulled at his buttons, quickly unfastening and dropping the heavy fabric of his clothes to the bedroom floor, all barriers between them now removed. He reached for her, only to be drawn by her soft hands, onto the bed beside her. 


	15. Reality with the Dawn

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, all is due to the great JKR. Please R&R in abundance.  
  
Many apologies for not getting this uploaded sooner. My life has taken a rather busy turning. I am now the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy who is filling my every waking moment with his smiles.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Touch guided his every move, as he stroked her, relishing the feel of her silken skin under his calloused fingertips. Hermione sighed gently, content to let him worship her, for the time being at least. The feeling of being slightly drugged increased, as her being centred on Severus, and the reality of life receded.  
  
"Look at me, open your eyes Hermione." he grated, his large hands framing her face and holding her still under him. "Tell me, who am I Hermione. Who am I?" he questioned insistently, his desperate need to have her confirm his identity, to confirm that she was making a conscious decision to be with him, coloured his voice to a rich throaty rumble.  
  
Hermione shivered with desire, but held his gaze, lifting her hips silently to rub against him, telling him only that she wanted him beyond all thought.  
  
"No, I need to hear you say it! I need to know you make this choice. Who am I Hermione?" his voice thick with the strain of his control.  
  
"Severus..." she whispered  
  
"More!"  
  
"You are Severus Snape."  
  
"And.."  
  
She smiled gently, understanding at last what he needed to hear from her.  
  
"And you are the greasy, evil git who made my entire school life hell. You are the bully who makes Gryffindors feel awful, simply for your own amusement. You are the former death eater who gave his oath to the master of evil." she paused, keeping her eyes locked on his slightly shocked eyes. "And, you are the man who I desire more than any other. You are the bravest, most self sacrificing man I have ever known. You are the man who can make me feel a thousand conflicting emotions in the space of a heartbeat. You, Severus Snape, are the man I chose, the man I love." She paused again. Not willing to utter the words that, despite what the world thought of him, she would be proud to be with him. They were implied, and by the look in his eyes, she saw that he had heard them.  
  
"I love you too." he murmured, as he slowly entered her, pushing deeper, never letting the intensity of their gaze diminish. Lowering his lips to hers he kissed her, sealing their unspoken pledge, binding them, each to the other.  
  
The room was beginning to lighten, the flowered curtains letting the sun creep around their ill fitting edges. It was nearly day, and yet still he lay there, in her bed, with arms wrapped possessively around her sleeping form. A smile still lingered on his face, his mind reliving odd moments from his victory the night before. Wondering thoughts randomly threw up images of stunned colleagues when he broke the news of his impending marriage. The imagined look of horror on Minerva's face, made him chuckle, causing his sleeping lover to shift slightly in his arms. He shushed her back to sleep, letting his nose drift into her hair.  
  
She was his; she had surrendered and in so doing had allowed him a most gracious Slytherin victory. His path had been well chosen, meticulously planned after the night of her betrayal. That hurt had been unexpected, but he had built upon his feelings, moulding them into his persona, using others perceptions of him to guide their beliefs, and ultimately to guide her actions.  
  
It had not taken long to recover from the black despair which had descended on her betrayal. His innate Slytherin need for revenge had reared its ugly head, and his anger had seared away the despair. He had sat well into the night, plotting the path which would lead him to this point. He knew what his goal was; he just had to decide on a stratagem to persuade Hermione to reach it for herself.  
  
The incident in the Headmaster's room had upset those plans for a while; he had never expected her to be quite so direct. His anger had not been feigned, at least not at first. Later when he had time alone, sitting before his fire, a glass of wine in his hand, he had smiled with delight at her approach. She would never make a Slytherin, he had mused, no finesse when it came to guiding the actions of another. She was most definitely a Gryffindor through and through; his Gryffindor, he smiled.  
  
Hermione stirred, turning in his arms to snuggle against his chest, breathing in his scent as she settled contentedly back into a light doze. His Gryffindor, but he most certainly was her Slytherin, as captured by her, as she was by his arms. He stopped and gazed into her face, marvelling over the black sweep of her lashes, and wondered again if he had been too distracted to see the bigger picture. He had been so certain of his victory, he had not stopped to consider her moves in this game. For a quiet eternity he gazed at her, before pulling her close and whispering into her sleep tousled hair,  
  
"A very satisfactory draw I believe Miss Granger."  
  
In a quiet tower room, an old man with white hair sat, smiling into his mug of cocoa, content. Minerva looked at him askance, deeply distrustful of his innocent look.  
  
"Well, are you going to tell me what you have meddled in now, it must be something big to generate such a smug smile?" the old witch asked, cupping her drink and sipping the hot foaming chocolate.  
  
"Me?" the feigned innocence was not entirely convincing. "Well, I suppose I have done a little, a tiny bit" he clarified quite earnestly," of steering. But that little boat seems to be quite safe now." He snuggled into the sofa and smiled beatifically at the slightly tense witch next to him.  
  
"Albus, please tell me you are not talking of Hermione. I'm not sure I can go through another of Severus' moods." She pulled away from him slightly, to stare over the top of her half moon spectacles, taking care not to spill her drink.  
  
"Don't worry my dear. I'm sure that it has worked out this time. I'm not sure that they have truly realised the full ramifications of the Dreame, I mean the theory behind the practice of the spell, but, it seems to have produced the desired results." He smiled again, and waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.  
  
"Sometimes Albus, I quite despair of you ever growing up! How can you sit there and make jokes about this. Hermione is, I presume from your suggestive attitude, back in the clutches of that man." She practically spat the last word. "Judging from his behaviour lately, I don't think it is safe for her to be anywhere near him. Not safe for anyone to be within several miles of him in fact." She grumbled. "And....."  
  
"No Minerva," Albus sat up straight, and looked his dear friend deeply in the eyes. "It was their choice. It was made before I had any input into their course. Can you not see that? The Dreame was a manifestation of their deepest desires, it required not only the need and longing from one partner, but from both of them in order to work. They may have had trouble convincing their conscious minds to act towards the goal of each other, but they had already made and acted upon the choice their unconscious minds made. The spell was worked by them, added to and altered as they saw fit. It brought together two people who would never have thought to look to each other for the comfort they both desperately sought.  
  
Not everyone can simply look and find a soul mate Minerva. Some have to quest for that person, to open their hearts and take the challenge."  
  
"Well, I'm surprised he has a heart to open." Minerva said waspishly as an aside.  
  
"Would you be so upset if Hermione was not a Gryffindor? Or would you be happier if she had fallen for someone else?"  
  
"Yes, to both counts." She half shrieked in annoyance, her accent dropping into a thick brogue as it was wont when she was upset. "Yes, she could have had any manner of other men, she is highly intelligent, very gifted, and quite pretty, in her own way, truly excellent scholar..." Minerva's heartfelt outburst drifted to a halt, "He's probably very well suited to her isn't he." She admitted, looking up to the approval in Albus' face.  
  
"Yes, I think their choice is admirable." He smiled at her, glad that she had seen sense though her indignation, "And, if nothing else, at least Severus should be less annoyed with the world in general."  
  
"Tell me that is not why you encouraged this." She grinned, "Oh Albus, that poor girl, what has she let herself in for?"  
  
"Oh, I have a feeling she knows exactly what she is doing." He murmured as he smiled smugly into his cocoa and chuckled to himself.  
  
Deep in the pockets of his voluminous robe his questing fingers twisted the dial of the watch buried there. No need to keep it running, he decided, the spell seemed to have grown a life of its own and surely must have run its course by now. He was quite pleased with its effectiveness, even if he had been totally thrown by the potion masters choice of Dreame. It had seemed to be such a simple little spell, a basic dream, a smattering of happy thoughts and a suppressant for his infamous bad temper.  
  
Albus wondered if it would work the same way for anyone else, or whether the effects were unique to the participants. Shame, he thought, smiling to himself, he could do with a little romance himself. As long as he could predict the route of Dreame, he thought looking over his half moon glasses at his companion, he wasn't sure how he would cope with a shock as great as Hermione's had been. His mind drifted as he pictured being enveloped in the arms of Madame Sprout. He shuddered and then chuckled quietly to himself, earning him a querying look from Minerva. Yes, if it could be directed towards a certain person, it promised to be very interesting indeed.  
  
The End  
  
Many many thanks to my wonderful reviewers, I am most grateful for your comments and especially for your praise (totally insecure bunny here). As always, much kudos to my beta, without you this would not have been half as readable. 


	16. Epilogue The Dreamers

Epilogue- The Dreamers

He struggled into the heavy black robe, fastening the multitude of ebony buttons that would ensure that his image remained cold and aloof. Even today of all days he could not, would not, allow any semblance of emotion to escape. He had no wish for the other participants to know his feelings. Even after all this time he was still a very private man. He picked his wand up from the dresser, and slipping it into his inside pocket, making sure it was always within easy reach, he gathered up a small delicately wrapped present and apparated as close as he could get to a simple clearing in a forest, wildly decorated in gold and crimson streamers. He grimaced, and after scanning the sizable crowd he spotted man responsible for the decorations.

"Albus, as understated as ever," he drawled, sneering at the fluttering gold of a nearby banner.

"Ah, there you are my boy. For a while there I thought you might be late. It's never a good idea to be later than the bride, not if you don't want to be hexed into next week." The old man grinned, his delight was catching and Severus found himself smirking slightly.

"I still think the decorations are a little extreme. I had expected Gryffindor colours to be on display, but surely there could have been some variation?" the sneer had come back; it was instinctual whenever he said the word Gryffindor.

"Did you remember the ring?"

"Yes, and I believe I shall keep hold of it. We would not want it going astray." The dark man had visions of the ring coming up out of a fluff lined pocket, the old man searching and bring out only sticky half sucked sherbet lemons. No, it would not do to lose the ring. The bride would be furious, and that was something Severus did tend to avoid when possible. It wasn't that he was afraid of Gryffindors, but neither was he stupid.

He hadn't wanted to have such a large ceremony. The thought of being the centre of attention in such a large crowd was slightly worrying. But, the bride had insisted, and by the time the list of essential participants had been prepared it already seemed to have most of the wizarding world included. What was more, they all seemed to have turned up. Curiosity, he decided, was not the sole domain of cats, as he looked around and saw representatives from all the Hogwart's houses, along with ministry officials, celebrities and even the odd foreign dignitary. He sighed, running his finger around his collar and trying to quell the trapped feelings that were making his legs twitchy. He wanted to run, to escape, somewhere quiet, removed from the world. Somewhere for just him and Hermione, where no-one else existed. Maybe after the ceremony, he thought, if they could get away. He wondered just how long they would be obliged to stay. The party would certainly go on without them, they probably would not even be missed, he decided, picturing already the peace, tranquillity, the feel of her skin against his....

"Time dear boy." The headmaster seemed to be unreasonably calm, Severus thought, as they glided into place at the centre of the congregation. All thought was then suspended as the bride and her escort made their way into the clearing.

She was beautiful, he decided, no matter what she wore, no matter if she had not slept, or been ill, or was furious. It fact especially when she was furious, he felt himself beginning to grin, but didn't feel able to prevent it. The dress was white, like all the bridal procession and her unbound hair fell in waves, woven with tiny white flowers which twinkled as if they contained jewels of light. She was bare foot, and she was smiling at him with all her love in her gaze as she made her way to the spot where he stood, rooted to the spot.

Severus was aware of the other members of the bridal party as they too came into position, and the vows to bind, one to the other, began the solemn ceremony of joining.

Afterwards he had only he vaguest memories of the ceremony. He had made the appropriate responses, had produced the ring from his pocket, and had fulfilled his part with dignity and aplomb. His mind, however, had been on auto pilot; his attention had been riveted on her eyes. The golden glance had never wavered from his own, and he felt tied to her, the words of the joining creating a deep meaning which existed only for the two of them. She was his wife, by law and by the rings which bound them symbolically, but also by choice. They had chosen each other through the Dreame, and Severus could not, even after all this time, allow himself to take her choice for granted. He was still in awe of these feelings, so freely given and received. Brushing his thumb against the knuckles of her hand, he smiled. He was not sure when he had taken her hand, but he had no desire to let her go.

The ceremony was finished, the bride had been kissed, and the happy couple had been praised and feted. Severus felt he had played his part well, against the expectations of a majority of the crowd, and was now seeking out his wife. He had no wish to remain, and was hoping to persuade her to leave soon.

"I know, I know" she smiled indulgently, "but we need to wait, just a little while longer. I can't go until we see them off" she wrapped her arm around her husband's waist and leant into him, letting him support her weight slightly.

"You should be off your feet you know. It is not good for you, all this excitement. I am simply thinking of your health Hermione" he intoned silkily. She laughed, a deep husky sound that he could feel as well as hear.

"Liar!" she retorted gently, the laughter still evident in her voice. Raising her head so she could look him in the eyes, she kissed him gently.

"We need to see them off first, and then we can go relax. Okay?" she smiled, and getting a smile in return from the usually taciturn man, they turned to wave their goodbyes. The Threstrals danced slightly in the traces, causing the bride to giggle like a school girl, belying the years that showed on her face, whilst the groom tried valiantly to calm them.

It was then that Severus saw the notice pinned to the back of the carriage. He knew his best man duties included a few lighter activities, his thoughts wondered vaguely back to the nightmare that Potter had had the bad grace to call a stag night, but he had not initiated the notice that was now firmly attached to the back of the carriage.

He groaned, eliciting a query from his wife, and pointed in the direction of the piece of paper, emblazoned in red were the words "Just Married" and trailing a variety of cans, boots and saucepan lids. Red rose petals were dropping from the carriage in a drift of scarlet and the words on the notice were dancing to catch the eye.

"Merlin, thank the gods we had a quiet wedding." he said, tightening his hold around his wife. "I don't think I could have coped with that."

"Actually, I think it suited them. I couldn't see an Albus & Minerva wedding being anything but showy" she smiled, allowing him to draw her away from the crowd still straining to cheer the happy couple off.

"Thankyou" he said, looking deep in thought

"What for?"

"For choosing me, for letting me chose you, for not giving up on me, for us, and for this." he said, putting his hand on the swell of her stomach. She stopped walking and stared up at him, noticing the discomfort he still felt at expressing those feelings, but needing to hear the words. The child within her took this opportunity to make his presence known, and gave a hefty first kick. Hermione gasped, and holding his hand to the place where their child moved, they stood in the centre of the wedding noise and had a moment of pure peace and tranquillity, simply caught in their dreame.

The End

Many thanks go to all of you who have read and reviewed this story, your kind words have pushed me to finish this story, and have lifted my soul.

Susanne


End file.
